


Reciprocation

by Twilight Fang (Asthenos)



Series: Falling into place [1]
Category: Invasion (TV)
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-09
Updated: 2016-10-09
Packaged: 2018-08-20 09:36:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8244608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asthenos/pseuds/Twilight%20Fang
Summary: A few months after the end of Szura, Russell and Tom are struggling - separately - with the way things have ended up.  But by some unspoken agreement, they each feel compelled to go out of their way to help the other.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Judging by the last episode of Invasion, it just seemed like things would probably get worse for Tom and Russell before they got better. But I would imagine that the only person either of them could rely on after the fallout would be each other.

3:00pm was kind of late for a lunch break. Actually, it was _really_ late for a lunch break. Especially if one had started work at 8:00am with nothing in their stomach except for a piece of dry toast and a glass of water – the staple of prison food. As Tom Underlay had found out quite recently, his status as the sheriff of Homestead didn’t entitle him to any special privileges, or guarantee that he would get his lunch break on time.

 

Before Tom had been outed as one of the villainous hybrids who were choking the life out of the town like a bunch of rampant cockroaches – in the words of the neighborhood watch committee’s coordinator – he hadn’t had any problem with taking his lunch on time. His deputies had respected him, and most had even liked him. But not now. Now the ones who were human feared and shunned him, and the ones who were hybrids considered him to be a traitor. Needless to say, it was quite an ordeal to get someone to take over for him, even when his stomach was so empty it sent pangs of pain – instead of hunger – to his brain. If he was just conducting a regular patrol, he could stop off wherever and whenever he liked for a bite to eat.

 

Unfortunately for Tom, today he had been unlucky enough to respond to a report of a home burglary. However, when he’d arrived at the address that dispatch had relayed to him, he’d found himself in the middle of a domestic dispute. Those never turned out very well. And, predictably, none of his deputies had bothered to back him up. Tom knew what they were hoping would happen, but there was nothing he could do about it. He was outnumbered and bringing the whole department up on insubordination charges would do nothing to resolve the problem.

 

So that’s how Tom had found himself outside of Russell Varon’s house. He hadn’t wanted to eat anywhere public to avoid anymore confrontations with the citizens of Homestead, or the people he was now loathe to refer to as colleagues. He had picked up an order of fried beef and vegetables on rice from the local Chinese restaurant – because it was one of a small list of local establishments that was remaining neutral in the ongoing battle of _hybrids versus humans_ – and taken it to Russell’s house. He’d grown rather close to Russell over the past few months because of their parallel struggles with society, as well as past trauma. Despite the bond that they’d formed with each other, their methods of coping with stress hadn’t seemed to improve much.

 

Russell’s house – the outside of it at least, because Tom had no idea what the inside now looked like – was an absolute nightmare. The weeds had taken over what was left of the lawn, and what was left of the lawn had grown sky high. All the plants that Russell had been growing on his property were dead. The herbs were dried out, the flowers trampled on, and the fruits and vegetable plants were uprooted and strewn around like a compost site gone wrong.

 

Being careful not to kill anything that was struggling to survive on Russell’s neglected land, Tom wove his way through the jungle of a lawn, while clutching his precious lunch container close to his chest to avoid letting flies into it.

 

He rang the doorbell as soon as he reached the front door, trying not to study the screen door too carefully, because it was off its hinges. Tom waited but no one came to the door. The kids were living with Mariel now, so if Russell didn’t answer the door, nobody would. Choosing to knock on the door instead, Tom leaned in close and called for the ex-park ranger. “Russ! Are you home?”

 

How could he not be home? His jeep was parked outside and he had nowhere else to be, at least not to Tom’s knowledge. Unless Russell had managed to score a job interview this week, which wasn’t very likely given the defamatory reference letter the Everglades National Park had provided for him when he’d been let go.

 

“Russ?”

 

After another five minutes, Tom sighed and let his shoulders drop, feeling more than a little depressed standing on Russell’s front porch with his lunch cooling off inside its boxy Styrofoam container. He didn’t have much time left for lunch, and he preferred not to eat in the cruiser where he would be able to hear dispatch reporting another slew of crimes in the area. Well, if Russell wasn’t going to let him in, he was just going to have to eat his lunch on the porch.

 

Finding a spot that looked ant-free, Tom sat down, opened the container, and snapped his wooden chopsticks apart. Then he ate his meal without enthusiasm, glancing at the pile of abandoned mail on Russell’s porch for lack of anything better to do.

 

 _Florida Power and Light. Final notice._ Tom stuck the chopsticks into his half eaten mountain of white rice and picked up the envelope that had been stamped with ominous red ink. It was dated a few days ago and might be important, and Russell was nowhere to be found, so Tom took the liberty of opening it. _Insufficient funds…?_ The electric company had tried to withdraw money from Russell’s bank account but there was apparently not enough in there to cover the transaction. _Homestead Gas. Final notice._ Tom opened that one, too, discovering the same situation. He had known that Russell was having a hard time, but he hadn’t realized just how down and out the ex-park ranger was after half a year of floating around unemployed.

 

Looking over his shoulder to make sure that Russell hadn’t suddenly appeared behind him, because he didn’t want his new _friend_ to see what he was up to, Tom quickly shuffled through the rest of the mail. He found two additional letters demanding payment for the Internet connection and Russell’s car insurance on the jeep. Not really having much of an appetite to finish his lunch, he closed the container again, and got up off of the porch. Then, sighing miserably once more, Tom returned to his car with Russell’s collection of unpaid bills, using the rest of his lunch hour to call up the individual companies and update the accounts with his credit card information.

 

* * *

 

 

It was a Saturday. Russell hated Saturdays. At some point in his life, perhaps half a year ago, he might have liked them, but now he despised them. He had an easier time not running into anyone he knew on the weekdays because everyone was working. Everyone but him. But on the weekends most people were off, which meant exchanging fake pleasantries with the neighbors. And having random people come up to him pretending that they gave a shit about his personal life. Most of those phonies only wanted to see just how crippling his financial situation was, and remind him of how nobody wanted to hire him.

 

“ _Oh, you haven’t found work yet? That’s too bad. My son Christopher just got hired with that new tech company that’s offering faster Internet connections.”_ Mrs. Edderton had been only too kind to share her son’s wonderful new state of employment.

 

 _“Are you sure you tried all the places around here? Someone’s gotta be hiring.”_ And that jackass down at the Sav-a-Centre had insensitively implied that Russell just wasn’t trying hard enough. Oh, he knew who was hiring alright. They just weren’t willing to hire _him_.

 

Every time Mariel called to check up on him, Russell calmly told her that things were looking up. It wouldn’t be long now. He just needed another week… One more week… Because he didn’t want to accept handouts from his ex-wife. _Sure_. In less than one week all his utilities would be cut off. There was something positive to look forward to.

 

 _Finally! Slow as hell service._ Russell snatched his order from the store clerk and gave her a dirty look, because she had given him one first. So long as he still had petty cash to go through, she would have to keep making him his sandwiches. The only reason why he even gave the local deli any business was because it was fairly close to walk to. He just couldn’t afford to gas up the jeep for another few days, which meant no supermarket and no fast food.

 

As Russell was leaving the counter, he spotted Tom waiting in line behind him. The hybrid was dressed in his sheriff’s uniform and had his face buried in some paperwork that he was flipping through so he hadn’t noticed Russell. It was Saturday, wasn’t it? Russell checked his sports watch just to be sure. Yes, still Saturday. What was Tom doing working on a Saturday?

 

Tom looked preoccupied so Russell decided to leave him alone. He didn’t want to have to apologize for ignoring Tom yesterday when he’d come calling. Of course he felt bad for letting his friend eat outside on the porch – alone – but Russell hadn’t wanted Tom to see him looking like a pathetic loser, walking around the house in his underwear, bleary eyed and suffering from a bitch of a hangover.

 

“Are you hybrids illiterate as well?”

 

Russell automatically turned to look back when the scathing words of the store clerk shook him up inside. If he had thought the store clerk’s manner was bad before, now it was downright appalling. She was glaring hatefully at Tom, as if he were carrying some contagious disease. And she wasn’t the only one. The other four customers in the deli had moved away from Tom and were muttering about his kind not being welcome in their town.

 

“The sign clearly says no body snatching _hybrids_ ,” the girl said viciously. “I don’t care if you’re the sheriff or the mayor. No service for your kind.”

 

Tom looked quite shaken by her attitude, but probably more so by the callousness of her words. For a second it looked like he might try to either reason with the girl, or put her in her place, but the next phrase that came out of her mouth silenced Tom before he could speak.

 

“Your kind is better off dead.”

 

Caught between wanting to punch the girl, and trying to think of something he could say to help Tom out, Russell was left standing there when the hybrid rushed out of the deli. However Tom had felt about the discriminatory comments, the unanimous cheer that went up through the deli as soon as he was out of it probably made him feel ten times worse.

 

Russell hurried after Tom, looking up at the signboard in front of the deli as he entered the parking lot. It usually displayed a quote from the Bible – something like, ‘ _A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for a time of adversity.’_ But today it read, _‘There is no greater evil than the shell of a man who walks amongst you. Hybrids take your business elsewhere.’_

“Tom,” Russell called out, trying to catch up to the hybrid before he jumped into his cruiser and took off. But Tom appeared to be too distraught to have heard him, already reaching for the door with his keys in hand. When the keys slipped through his trembling fingers, Tom made a sound of frustration and bent down to pick them up. That gave Russell enough time to get to the cruiser and block the driver’s side door.

 

“Russ?” Tom appeared confused at Russell’s sudden appearance, and looked like he didn’t know what to make of him leaning up against the cruiser like that.

 

“What that bitch said to you was really cruel,” Russell said angrily, looking away in embarrassment when he realized that Tom’s blue eyes were awfully glassy looking. “But you can’t let it get to you. Not everyone feels that way.”

 

“Not everyone. Just the majority of the population,” Tom said sarcastically, his voice filled with a sorrow that he just couldn’t contain.

 

Russell looked down at the plastic bag in his hand, and then back at Tom, wondering how long the hybrid would be able to resist the urge to blink. Because as soon as he did, no amount of male bravado would be able to cover up those tears. Even after Russell had found out that Tom was a hybrid, it hadn’t changed the way he’d perceived him on the outside. While he’d known that something was different on the inside, Tom had continued to look and act like a regular human being. And a rather handsome one at that with those exquisite blue eyes, wavy blondish-brown hair, and high cheekbones that really gave his angular face character. He was also tall and slender, something that Russell would have gone for, _if_ he hadn’t been rolling around in his own self-pity. And only _if_ he didn’t hate himself so much for the way that he’d treated Tom when he’d first learned of the hybrid’s unique – and incredibly disturbing – rebirth. He had been awful to Tom in the beginning, a complete bastard. So who was he to judge others for their disparaging remarks?

 

“You like tuna, right?”

 

“Excuse me?” Tom asked, not seeing any connection between racism and tuna.

 

Maybe Russell needed to learn how to transition from one topic to another a little more smoothly. “I’ve got two sandwiches here. I know that you’re not into the pastrami, so I thought you might want the tuna.”

 

“Russ… thanks, but I think that I’ve lost my appetite.”

 

Perhaps it was because Russell was starving for human contact, or maybe he just didn’t want to admit that he hated to see Tom so upset. Whatever the reason, he somehow found his arms around Tom, pulling the hybrid in for a hug. “It’ll get better, Tom. You just need to hang in there.” And if that didn’t sound hypocritical, he didn’t know what did. Because he didn’t honestly believe that anything would get better. His job situation was going south fast. He was running out of places to send his job applications to, not knowing which ones hadn’t already blacklisted him. And he’d be sent back to the prehistoric ages as soon as the electric company cut his power next Wednesday. And then there was the tiny problem he had with turning to the bottle on the nights when sleeping alone became truly unbearable. Or the mornings when waking up was just too much of an effort. But he didn’t want Tom to fall down the same hole that he was now trapped in. Tom didn’t deserve that, not after everything he’d already been through.

 

Hugging felt good. Nowadays the only person who hugged him was Rosie, and that only happened once every two weeks. That was how long it took him to scrounge up enough money to take her and Jesse out to some family restaurant for a meal together sometime during the weekend. But hugging Rosie was very different from wrapping his arms around Tom. Rosie squirmed and giggled while Tom was still and silent. Rosie liked to try and escape, but Tom held on, returning the hug with just a hint of desperation.

 

After what felt like a lifetime of mutual solace, Russell tightened his hold on Tom – just a little – and tried not to linger too close to his neck, because he smelled really good. Like sweet cologne and spring floral softener good.   Finally he let go. It wasn’t that he was worried about what people would say about him, rather he was mindful about what such a warm and sentimental scene might do to Tom’s reputation. When he moved back, he paid close attention to Tom’s expression, noting how the hybrid looked just a fraction more optimistic than he had a moment ago. But his eyes still held that haunted look, and his cheeks were damp with moisture that shouldn’t have been there.

 

“So, you’ll have the tuna, and I’ll have the pastrami,” Russell decided, not giving Tom the option of refusing his generous offer. He casually surveyed the parking lot, making sure that none of the other customers had left the building, and reached for Tom’s face. “Hold still,” he said firmly when Tom instinctively backed away from him. Moving quickly, he brushed his thumb over Tom’s cheeks, drying them, and rounded the car for the passenger’s side before the hybrid could react. “I hope you don’t mind driving me home. My jeep is out of gas.”

 

“Sure, Russ,” Tom said quietly – introspectively. “Tuna sounds great.”

 

On the short ride back to Russell’s house, he should have been thinking about that pastrami sandwich, because damn he was hungry. The last thing that he’d poured into his stomach had been a lot more ethanol, and a lot less sustenance. But no, he was thinking about Tom’s face, musing about the light freckles on the hybrid’s cheeks and nose that had escaped his notice up until now. For some people, freckles were a distraction or too dark from overexposure to the sun, but on Tom they were sexy as hell. And that was a thought that Russell debated over whether or not he would ever share with his new best friend.

 

* * *

 

“ _Sheriff Underlay, we have a 415 down at Antike’s Pub. Requesting immediate response. Over.”_

Tom groaned, glared at the radio, and reluctantly picked it up. “Dispatch, I am all the way on the other side of town. And my shift is almost over. Send Deputies Sanders and McNicoll to check it out. Over.” It was nearly 10pm and Tom had been working twelve hours straight with only a thirty minute lunch break in between. He needed to go home and sleep before he ended up causing a traffic accident.

 

_“Should I advise them that they have permission to use force if Russell Varon resists arrest? Over.”_

Russell was at Antike’s pub causing a disturbance? What kind of trouble had he gotten himself into this time? Of course Tom didn’t want to see Russell get either arrested or thrown in jail. “Negative. I’ll handle it.” He switched off the radio and swung his cruiser around in the opposite direction. And what nonsense was that about asking his permission to use force? The deputy assigned to dispatch had no doubt been trying to imply that Tom was giving Russell preferential treatment. Probably because there had been an incident last month involving a heavily intoxicated Russell, the newly appointed supervisor down at the Glades, and a broken windshield. Tom had quietly paid for the damages so he really didn’t see what all the fuss was about. Men did foolish things when they were drunk, not that he would know, and the mild damage Russell had caused paled in comparison to what some of the other townsfolk were guilty of. Indecent exposure, arson, distributing anti-Semitic literature in the Homestead Public Library, threatening to kidnap the mayor’s Chihuahua… and the list went on. Now _those_ were real crimes worth the department’s time and manpower.

 

It took twenty minutes to get across town and another two and a half to find a patch of sidewalk to parallel park in front of. The side street was filled with parked cars going up one side and down the other. Hopefully all the drivers weren’t inside the pub because that would be one hell of a crowd for a Thursday night. Maybe half of them were inside the community center playing bingo. But that was a big maybe.

 

As soon as Tom entered the pub, he felt the overwhelming urge to go after the person – or persons – responsible for the cloud of cigarette smoke hanging over his head. Smoking had been banned from all public places in Homestead for so long that it had to be basic common sense by now. Although it was a misdemeanor, it was still a punishable offense which carried a reasonably upsetting fine. If Tom hadn’t had more urgent business in the pub, he definitely would have taken the time to hunt down the source of that nicotine stench.

 

“Why don’t you, and the rest of your asshole buddies, go and _fuck yourself_!” There was the sound of glass breaking and an indignant shout, followed by the thud of a hard head being slammed onto the bar countertop.

 

Tom got down into the basement, where the pub was hidden, just in time to watch Russell shove the senseless man that he’d been sitting beside onto the floor.

 

“You’re nothing but a no for good bum!” One of the unconscious man’s acquaintances shouted at Russell, pulling back his fist to punch the inebriated loner.

 

The man’s fist never came close to Russell. In the blink of an eye, Russell hammered him in the jaw and hauled him up onto the countertop to begin to choke him. “You got the balls to repeat what you said a minute ago?” Russell demanded to know, slurring his words and stumbling forward so that he nearly fell on top of his adversary.

 

“Sheriff’s department,” Tom announced before any of the other five men itching to pick the bones off of Russell’s flesh could get any closer. “Back away from the bar and go back to what you were doing.” Keeping an eye on the five men to make sure that they would obey his orders, but keeping his right hand poised close to his firearm in case they didn’t, Tom cautiously approached Russell. “Russell, I think that it’s time you headed home.”

 

“I’m not finished with him,” Russell growled, shaking his sniveling prey like a limp ragdoll.

 

“I think that you are.” Tom calmly placed a hand on Russell’s shoulder, feeling the man’s muscles taut and ready to strike. “Russ, whatever he said to you, it isn’t worth it.”

 

“Oh yes it is!”

 

Remembering the kindness and compassion Russell had shown him last Saturday, Tom squeezed Russell’s shoulder, trying to convey as much comradely support as possible through that simple touch. “You’re better than he is. Let it go.” When Russell did let the man go, turning to look at him instead, Tom was startled to see just how dark and wild his friend’s eyes were. This was a new level of ‘drunk’, even for Russell. “Come on.”

 

“Hold on a minute. He ain’t leaving until he settles up his tab,” the bartender protested.

 

Why were there so many problems in life? So many obstacles? Why couldn’t the townspeople show each other a little more understanding instead of always being ready to string up their fellow man? “So send him the bill.”

 

“Oh, no way. I did that last month,” the man, who really didn’t look old enough to be a bartender, stated clearly. “And he still hasn’t paid. Now either he pays up, or I’m gonna press charges and have him arrested.”

 

 _Oh really?_ Tom pulled out his wallet from his back pocket and opened it aggressively. “First of all, that bill was paid in full – three weeks ago,” he said angrily through his clenched teeth. “I should know because I was the one who paid it. Second, that tax audit that you had me postpone just got moved up to tomorrow. Now how much does he owe?”

 

The bartender gripped the edge of the bar counter in a barely concealed fury, most likely wanting to curse at Tom and his pack of unholy hybrids. “$45 plus tax,” he hissed between his teeth.

 

“That’s an awful lot for one person,” Tom said dryly, about to make another threat about safety regulations when he felt a hand on his ass. He whirled around, his cheeks suddenly flushed with heat, to see Russell – his best friend and the man he had become financially responsible for in the past few weeks – gazing at him in a very disturbing manner. Before anyone could notice what Russell had done, Tom knocked off his hand and returned his attention to the bartender. But the color didn’t leave his face, nor did the memory of that blazing display of lust in Russell’s eyes leave his mind.

 

“He went through nine shots of whisky. One costs $5, so that comes to $45. Plus tax,” the man grated out condescendingly.

 

That was nearly all the money in Tom’s wallet. So much for filling up the gas tank on the way back to the sheriff’s department. Tom counted out the exact amount, flung it onto the countertop, and grabbed Russell’s arm. “Get up the stairs before I take a swing at you myself,” he warned under his breath.

 

Russell did as he was told, swaying and tripping on his way up. There were definitely more dignified ways to leave a building, but Russell seemed to have forgotten the meaning of the word _dignity_. Because no sooner had they gotten back out onto the street than Tom had his hands full fending off Russell and his overeager groping. “My hero,” Russell drawled with an exaggerated lazy grin. “Come and get your reward.”

 

“Russ, we’re in the middle of the street,” Tom snapped at his wasted friend, seizing him by the wrists when Russell made a grab for his utility belt. “Your behavior is highly inappropriate, not to mention disrespectful… Hey! What are you doing?!” Russell had reversed Tom’s grip so that he was now the one with the upper hand, dragging him closer by his ensnared forearms.

 

“You’re wearing it again,” Russell sighed next to Tom’s ear, nuzzling his neck and just inhaling deeply. “What is that? It’s sweet, but not like flowers. More like candy. Givenchy? Jean Paul Gaultier?” Russell breathed against Tom’s neck, trying to guess exactly what cologne the hybrid had sprayed himself with.

 

There wasn’t enough restraint in the world to prevent Tom from gasping in pleasure when Russell’s lips brushed against his neck, barely kissing him at first, but pressing the coarse stubble of his beard in harder when Tom momentarily stopped struggling. This was not only inadvisable, but it was also dangerous. If either of them got caught…

 

Quickly returning to his senses, Tom yanked his arms free from Russell’s grasp and backed away from him. “Get into the car,” he ordered, needing to clear his throat to get his voice working again. He returned to where he’d parked his cruiser, unlocked and flung open the passenger’s side door for Russell, and then went around to the driver’s side. He had no desire to throw his friend into the backseat like a common criminal so he was going to let him ride up front. He always let Russell ride up front. Even though Russell didn’t have the proper authorization to qualify for a ride-along.

 

“You don’t want to ask why I broke that guy’s nose?” Russell half snickered, half laughed as he tugged on his seatbelt.

 

“No, Russ, I don’t. Although I can imagine that it had something to do with your current state of employment,” Tom said without amusement. “And for your sake, I sincerely hope that you didn’t break that man’s nose.” Because the last thing Russell needed was another assault charge going on his criminal record. And Tom really couldn’t afford to cover any more of Russell’s bills.

 

By the time Tom had pulled away from the curb, Russell had finally succeeded in securing his seatbelt. He was now leaning uncomfortably close and staring at Tom’s face. “You’re wrong. He insulted you,” he said evenly.

 

“He insulted me?” That was unexpected. Not the fact that yet another citizen of Homestead had decided to publicly express his disdain for Tom. No, that was not surprising at all. What piqued his interest was why Russell had felt the need to resort to physical violence on his behalf. “What did he say?” Surely it couldn’t have been bad enough to warrant smashing the man’s face against that bar countertop.

 

“He said that you don’t have human blood to bleed, and he was going to prove it by cutting you up.”

 

Tom’s grip on the wheel faltered for a brief instant, as did his pressure on the gas pedal. He had to force himself to stay relaxed and keep breathing because if he let himself think about the words… if he let himself _feel_ , everything would unravel. “That isn’t an insult, Russ,” he said in as calm a tone as he could manage. “That’s uttering a threat. If you had told me sooner, I could have arrested him. That isn’t a light offense.” Especially not when it was directed at a member of law enforcement.

 

“It would have been my word against all the hybrid haters in that pub. Do you think your colleagues would have taken what I have to say seriously?” Russell scoffed, absently rubbing the thumb of his left hand over the bruised knuckles of his right. “Anyway, I took care of it. And I’ll take care of you, too,” Russell sweetly added, his words drifting off into drunken muttering that was too soft to hear.

 

“That’s incredibly kind of you, but I’m not the one who needs someone to take care of them.” Tom seriously wished that Russell had been a quiet drunk instead of a talkative one, because the man’s overtly flirtatious words and gestures were making him feel nervous and uncomfortably warm. Alcohol did strange things to the brain, warped one’s perception, and destroyed any and all concepts of inhibition. Or self restraint.

 

“I’ve already got someone looking after me, don’t I, Tom?” Russell stroked his hand down Tom’s arm, not caring that it might distract the driver. “Someone who pays for all my utilities and keeps the credit card company off of my back.”

 

For a moment, Tom debated over whether to remain anonymous and deny Russell’s accusation. He would have preferred to play ignorant because he didn’t want his friend to get hung up on his charitable deeds. But there was still the matter of Russell’s drinking habit. That had to be addressed sooner rather than later. “I’m sure that the best way for you to show your appreciation is to waste a week’s worth of grocery money on whisky,” Tom said in annoyance. “I want to help you, Russ. I truly do. But I’m running out of ideas and my next pay check is already stretched too thin…”

 

“Sorry,” Russell muttered, withdrawing his hand again. “I was only going to have one… but one wasn’t enough.”

 

Tom sighed, pulling into Russell’s mess of a front yard, and running over hell knows what on his way to the front door. “What can I do to help you, Russ? Do you need me to find you an AA group? I can go with you as moral support.”

 

“You would do that?” Russell unfastened his seatbelt and just stared at Tom.

 

Avoiding making eye contact with Russell while he was under the influence of the alcohol, Tom merely nodded. “If it would help,” he said after the staring began to unnerve him. When Russell pushed open the car door, stepped out, wobbled and fell onto his face, Tom dashed around the car to help him. “You’re such an idiot,” he griped, crouching down in the jungle of weeds to pull at Russell’s arms. “An insufferable… drunken… _heavy_ idiot,” Tom grunted, ineffectually yanking at the dead weight on the ground. With Russell’s broad shoulders and impressive muscular physique, he would have given Tom trouble on a good day. He was bigger, taller, and heavier than Tom. But drunk, Russell seemed to be much heavier and uncooperative. Tom knew that it was all in his mind and the only reason why Russell felt so heavy was because he was sagging drunkenly on the ground. But factual information wasn’t going to help him drag Russell’s dead weight inside. “Damn it, Russell! If you’re not going to help me, you can just lie here all night for all I care.”

 

“Oh, you care alright,” Russell chuckled. He raised his right arm for Tom to latch onto, pretending to be helpful. But when Tom took hold of his arm, instead of attempting to get up off of the ground, Russell pulled Tom down beside him.

 

Finding himself lying on his back in a nest of grass, leaves, weeds, and untended soil, Tom just about lost it there and then with Russell. “What is your problem?! You know that I don’t have a washing machine in that basement apartment that I’m renting. Maybe you’ve forgotten what clean clothes look and smell like, but--.”

 

“Tom, shut the hell up,” Russell cut Tom off before he could really start bitching, and crawled on top of him before he could get up.

 

Tom held his breath when Russell leaned in close to sniff at his skin. He prepared himself to throw the man off as soon as his balance shifted to either the right or left. But Russell’s balance remained steady as he straddled Tom’s thighs, and his expression only became more fixated the longer he stayed there. “Russ, get off of me,” Tom said quietly, but firmly, not accustomed to this unpredictable side of Russell. One minute he was drunk out of his mind, and the next he was so sober he looked serene. Or maybe the drunkenness had been all an act, an excuse to overlook his violent behavior.

 

“You should see yourself,” Russell said softly, looking down at Tom in admiration and something a lot deeper. “Lying there with your perfect uniform all messed up and your composure fucked to hell. And _this_ ,” Russell grabbed hold of the buckle on Tom’s utility belt and undid it. “This has to go.”

 

Tom watched in bewildered fascination as Russell slipped a hand underneath the small of his back, lifting him up a bit, and just pulled the utility belt free. He knew that he should have been furious with Russell for touching any part of his uniform because it was highly inappropriate behavior. But he found that he couldn’t do anything to resist when those warm brown eyes began to study his face, moving down to his neck, and then following the line of shirt buttons running from his collar down to his waist. Mentally undressing him no doubt, because that look could mean nothing else. With nowhere to escape to, Tom had no choice but to look up at Russell who was hunched over him in the moonlight. If it hadn’t been for the lights from his cruiser, Tom doubted he would have been able to see him at all. But with two sources of illumination, Tom could see Russell quite clearly. And what he could see had his heart beating frantically in his chest. Russell was quite handsome, devilishly so with the beard that he was growing in a bit thicker than before, and that full head of thick messy hair. He had a strong jaw line but a contradicting boyish smile that he was now aiming at Tom. And his muscular body made Tom want to run his hands over those strong biceps and well built chest, to just feel the shape of them.

 

“There’s no way I’m letting you go after the way you just looked at me,” Russell groaned throatily, pressing his body down onto Tom’s, his hands on the hybrid’s cheeks.

 

And Tom should have stopped him. He really should have tried harder to throw Russell off, because his arms were unrestricted and his gun was still within reach. But he didn’t want Russell off. Why would he want that when Russell’s body pressed against his own felt so unbearably erotic, awakening a desire inside of him that he usually kept well under control. “Russ…” He hadn’t intended to say anything but the name just slipped out, barely more than a moan, when he felt how hard Russell was against his thigh.

 

Reacting to the way that Tom had spoken his name, Russell covered the hybrid’s mouth with his own, skipping over the foreplay and just diving into a wet kiss full of tongue and saliva.

 

Tom moaned at the intense feeling of Russell’s lips sliding firmly against his own, and the way the man’s tongue just leisurely – but aggressively – explored his mouth. He could taste the whisky on Russell, deafening and potent, but it didn’t detract from the sensation of the kiss. Tom was more of a casual beer and wine connoisseur himself, steering clear of the hard liquor because to him it tasted more like gas fumes than a beverage meant for human consumption. But something about being kissed with all that fire was seriously arousing. And Russell was one hell of a kisser. Passionate, confident, and relentless. He refused to let up until Tom lay there with his cheeks infused with the quickening of his blood, and his eyes lacking the ability to focus.

 

“Damn it, you’re sexy,” Russell praised, watching Tom up close for a moment before licking a thick stripe over his cheek just to listen to him moan again. “What are we going to do about _this_ , Tom?” He asked cheekily as his palm grazed the swell in the hybrid’s slacks.

 

“ _Russell_ ,” Tom panted, instinctively raising his hips to meet the touch while his arms wrapped around Russell’s back to pull him closer. He no longer cared that they were lying in the middle of Russell’s poor excuse for a front yard, or that there were grass stains all over his uniform. The only rational thought he had in his mind was how he wanted to be kissed again with that skillful tongue, and if Russell’s hand continued to fondle him there, well, that was okay, too. More than okay actually.

 

But Russell gazed down at him with a very probing expression, as if he needed proof of Tom’s desire. “Tom, I want you to come inside,” he said emphatically, caressing the hybrid’s face with careful attention.

 

“Okay,” Tom whispered hoarsely, so lost in the experience of being with Russell that he couldn’t have refused even if he’d wanted to. And he definitely didn’t want to.

 

“And spend the night,” Russell clarified, moving his hand off of Tom’s crotch to stroke it over his ass instead.

 

Was Russell suggesting what Tom thought he was suggesting? If they went and did _that_ , what would become of their friendship the next morning? He didn’t want to risk losing what he already had with Russell in exchange for one night of carnal pleasures, regardless of how badly Tom wanted it. His uncertainty must have shown on his face because Russell breached the space between them to kiss him again, slow and sweet.

 

“It doesn’t have to be just for tonight,” Russell murmured before thrusting his tongue back into Tom’s mouth to kiss him harder, deeper. “You can stay as long as you want,” he added, letting his words ghost over Tom’s kiss-swollen lips. “You do pay the bills around here, after all.”

 

“What if I wanted to stay for a very long time?” Tom asked hopefully, holding Russell close and trying to lure his friend down for another highly addictive kiss.

 

“Then I would need to make space for your clothes in the closet,” Russell said with a smirk. “But we can work out the details later. This offer is a limited time only,” he joked, indicating the very prominent bulge in his jeans. “In case you’re still hesitant, let me be perfectly clear.” He brushed his lips over Tom’s ear and growled into it. “I want to fuck you, in my bed. I want to hear you moaning my name as I fuck you. All night.” Very slowly, and stiffly, Russell got off of Tom, holding out his hand to pull the hybrid up with him. “Lock your car up and come inside,” he ordered, not bothering to check to see if Tom would really follow him inside. Because he was _that_ cocky and sure of himself.

 

Completely shaken by Russell’s promise of a night that he would not soon forget, Tom hurriedly locked up his car, trying not to appear too overeager in the process. He then did as he was told and entered the quiet house after Russell. It was only after the door was shut and locked that Russell really let loose, grabbing for him, and rubbing up against him. Releasing months of pent-up sexual energy in the way he kissed and touched him. They barely made it to the bedroom where Tom opened up Russell’s jeans, stroking him to his full length, and licked the salty sweat from his friend’s neck and collarbone. “You’re amazing, Russ,” Tom gasped, dragging his hands over the man’s strong chest, over his shoulders, and onto his biceps.

 

“And you’re gorgeous,” Russell returned the compliment, pushing Tom’s unbuttoned shirt off of his shoulders and unzipping his slacks next.

 

Tom would have assumed that he would feel embarrassed standing on full display for Russell as soon as the man had done away with every last article of his clothing. But he found that the careful inspection that those brown eyes performed turned him on rather than made him feel shy or self-conscious. As soon as Russell tossed the remainder of his own clothes onto the floor and stepped forward to embrace him, Tom thought that he wouldn’t survive the sensory overload. It was too much, too soon. The hard press of Russell’s hard, naked body against his own, the thigh that forced itself between his legs, nudging him firmly where he longed to be touched, and the hot way that Russell licked inside his mouth. He was on his back with his legs spread before he knew what had happened, and Russell’s head was between them. And _oh God_ how wonderful that hot mouth felt wrapped around him, sucking on him with such finesse that he couldn’t help but wonder if Russell had done this before. He lay back, arching his back and moaning when the sensation of being licked nearly pulled him over the edge of insanity. But then there was another sensation, one that was foreign to him. And at first, he wasn’t quite sure that he liked it.

 

“Relax,” Russell murmured as he pulled off for a second, his fingers cool and slippery where they were tracing down between the curve of Tom’s buttocks.

 

“Russ,” Tom groaned, catching sight of the uncapped tube of bright purple lubricant by Russell’s right knee. And then the feeling of the cool tip of Russell’s index finger circling him, before probing him gently caused Tom to whimper. It had felt weird and uncomfortable at first, but the deeper Russell’s finger sank inside of him, the more he realized that this was something that he shouldn’t want, but really did.

 

Russell pulled off to watch Tom’s reaction, moving up to kiss him when he flinched. “We can stop at any time,” he said reassuringly. “But I don’t think you want me to stop, do you?” He asked knowingly when he rubbed against Tom’s sweet spot, wringing a thready cry from the hybrid. “How’s that feel, Tom?”

 

“Incredible,” Tom gasped, reaching over to begin stroking Russell’s neglected erection as he felt another finger begin to work its way in beside the second. “I don’t think I can last if you touch me there again,” he warned, squeezing Russell reflexively when the stretch and burn of those fingers moving into him grazed that spot again. He nearly bit his lip the pleasure was so great.

 

“I might lose it just by watching you,” Russell confessed, groaning when Tom’s thumb began to grace circular patterns over his head. “Or if you keep touching me like that.” He thrust into Tom’s hand as his fingers slid in and out of the hybrid, preparing him for what was to come next. “Relax,” he said again when Tom clenched against the addition of a third finger.

 

Tom lay back on the pillows, panting from the exertion of keeping the tension out of his lower body, and dealing with the waves of ecstasy that shot up his spine when Russell breached that tender spot again and again. “Russ, I want you,” Tom pleaded, so hard that he was sure that the next stroke would undo him for good. He pulled Russell down to him for a claiming kiss, wrapped his legs around his friend’s waist, and beckoned him closer. Because if Russell’s fingers felt that good inside of him, he was positive that the feeling of Russell moving inside of him would feel that much more unimaginable.

 

“I can see that,” Russell said ardently, trying to be careful as he positioned himself to take Tom. He grabbed one of the pillows and adjusted it under Tom for the right angle, then stretched forward, slowly breaching that tight heat that he had spent many a lonely night fantasizing about claiming. When Tom sucked in a startled gasp of air at the fullness of having Russell inside him, Russell began to stroke his hair and murmur encouraging words to him. Telling him to just relax. And he was beautiful like this, just for Russell. Only for Russell. “Let me know when you’re ready,” Russell said patiently when he could go no further, closing his eyes to relish the tight warmth that he was sheathed in. Tom’s warmth. “ _Tom_ ,” Russell groaned, unable to still the jerk of his hips when the hybrid didn’t immediately answer him.

 

“Okay,” Tom finally said, his eyes smoldering with desire as he grabbed Russell by his ass, urging him to move.

 

At first, Russell moved slowly and carefully, trying to be gentle with Tom because he didn’t want to hurt him. He kept the pace slow for a few minutes, letting Tom grow accustomed to what it felt like to be taken in that way. Fast or slow, it wouldn’t have mattered, because Tom felt good all the same. He smelled good, he tasted good, and his moans of encouragement brought Russell to a whole new high. But when Tom began to grind down onto him, Russell became a little less careful and a hell of a lot more passionate. His thrusts drew moans and whimpers out of Tom, nearly shattering him every time he hit that spot deep at his core that could never be stroked enough. Tom wanted more, deeper, faster, and Russell was only too happy to give it to him. His thrusts sped up, punctuated by every noise of approval that left Tom’s lips.

 

“ _Russ_ …” Tom moaned out, long and hard.

 

“ _Fuck, Tom…_ ,” Russell held himself above the hybrid, the light exploding behind his closed eyes as he gave into his orgasm, still buried deep within his lover. Tom was right with him at the peak of his pleasure, stiffening and clenching for a few seconds, which only intensified Russell’s satisfaction. After a minute or two of just holding himself above Tom, breathing hard and sweating from their intimately charged lovemaking, Russell slipped out of the hybrid and flopped down beside him. “Come here.” He pulled Tom in for a very slow kiss, reminding him that it wasn’t only about the sex. It had never been and would never be only about the sex. Which wasn’t to say that making love to Tom hadn’t been astoundingly mind-blowing. “Are you okay?”

 

Okay? _Okay_ was such an inadequate word for what Tom was feeling.   “That was wonderful,” Tom said emotionally, settling for the closest word he could relate to. He kissed Russell’s chest and then just rested his head there, trying to get his breathing back under control.

 

“You were wonderful,” Russell redirected the praise, pressing a kiss to the top of Tom’s head, and then smoothing down his unruly hair. “Are you cold?”

 

“Just a little…” Because he was naked and hadn’t had the foresight to bring his pajamas to this impromptu sleepover.

 

Russell reached over to pull the sheets and blanket over them both. “The left is your side,” he decided suddenly, beginning to stroke his hand down the length of Tom’s bare back.

 

“Hmm?” Tom made a contented questioning sound, not really understanding what Russell was referring to.

 

“I sleep on the right side of the bed, so you can have the left. Or… you can sleep in my arms,” Russell offered generously. “Because I like to snuggle afterwards.”

 

“So do I,” Tom said with a sleepy grin, losing himself to the feeling of Russell’s hand running down the length of his spine, and the sound of his lover’s steady heartbeat pressed against his ear.

 

* * *

 

In the morning, Russell lay in bed smiling at the pleasant warmth of Tom’s naked body in his arms. For the first time in quite a while, he didn’t feel the need to drown the daylight hours with alcohol in order to fill the void in his heart. That’s what Tom was for. He needed Tom, just as much as the hybrid needed him.

 

Russell may have been a complete wreck, but Tom was in worse shape than him, spiritually speaking. Tom’s heart required someone to mend it and try to put it back into the shape that it had been in before the hybrid haters of Homestead had gotten their clutches on it. Just like Tom knew exactly what he needed, Russell also knew what the hybrid lacked. And that was self-worth and the love of another human being. The loving part Russell had already mastered months ago, and it wouldn’t be long before Tom realized just how serious his feelings were for him. The other part they would need to work on together, which was fine by Russell because he had all the patience in the world when it came to Tom. Besides, he owed Tom for all those times that the hybrid had covered his ass.

 

Not only had Tom been paying his bills, apologizing for his mistakes, and checking in on him when it had looked like he was about to derail, but the hybrid had done other selfless acts that he thought Russell wasn’t aware of. But Russell knew about most – if not all – of them. The phone calls and meetings Tom had held with the Everglades National Park committee to try to get him reinstated. The job interviews that Tom had set up… and Russell had ultimately bombed. And then there was the time that the Health Department had come out to inspect his property, only to be sent home by Tom when they couldn’t produce the proper documentation. Once or twice when he’d been too hung over to take the kids out to lunch or dinner, Tom had done it for him. Tom was always there for him when he needed it the most, even when he was too stubborn to admit it. But Tom himself wasn’t invulnerable. Recently he’d begun to notice a helpless desperation within his new lover. A desperation so powerful that it brought tears to Tom’s eyes when he couldn’t contain it any longer.

 

Last night Russell had felt a little of that desperation in the way Tom had grinded against him, intentionally hurting himself. Although Tom hadn’t made a sound, Russell had felt the way his lover had winced at one point, which had caused him to slow down a bit and take back control over their rhythm. That would never happen again, not now that he was aware of how Tom could be just as self-destructive as he was, but under different circumstances. He would take care of Tom just as Tom had taken care of him, and everything would be alright.

 

“Russ,” Tom said, his voice still soft with sleep.

 

“Good morning, Tom,” Russell replied warmly. “It’s a little after six o’clock. You don’t have to get up for a while.”

 

“Actually, I was wondering if you’d mind me staying here with you today.”

 

Tom was willing to skip work to be with him? That kind of resolution had a great deal of significance considering the workaholic it was coming from. “Why the hell would I mind? You can stay here with me all week if you want to.” He squeezed Tom tighter and gazed into those lively blue eyes that seemed to be entranced with him. “Or you can just stay,” he said finally, conveying the permanency of their relationship in the way he kissed Tom into submission.


End file.
